


A Questionable Pursuit

by yuletide_archivist



Category: The Sandman (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-11
Updated: 2008-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1641056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Lucifer Morningstar tells a story, presents an opinion, and makes an unexpected offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Questionable Pursuit

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta/brother, Aldrian Kyrrith, for knowing when to be supportive and when to push me out a window.
> 
> Written for trillianastra

 

 

Lucifer Morningstar stands alone, as so often he does: a single figure silhouetted against the backdrop of existence itself. 

Mazikeen waits a dozen steps behind him, right above the stairs that lead to this balcony. She has been summoned, and so she has come. Lucifer, turned away and gazing down upon his realm, has not yet seen fit to acknowledge her presence, but Mazikeen is content simply to wait - to watch him.

There are few entities in this world (or any other) as fell, as fallen, and yet as utterly unbreakable as he, and the paradox runs through his entire being. His damnation is obvious at a glance, but so is his divine origin: the unparalleled splendour of an angel, offset by the horror of those withered, draconian wings.

The effect is breathtaking.

(Even had Mazikeen admired him for nothing else, this union of the beautiful and the grotesque would have been reason enough.)

"Mazikeen," he greets her, turning around. "It is _good_ to see you."

"Ngarsshter," she responds. No thought of rebellion flickers in the mind of this daughter of Lilith; it is far too late for such things.

Lucifer makes no reply; he simply considers her for a long moment. Beneath that bright gaze, Mazikeen knows that she should feel uncomfortable; instead, she only wonders what he sees when he regards at her. Lucifer Morningstar has never shied away from looking upon her face in its entirety, nor ever shown even the slightest hint of disgust.

He is one of the few for whom this is true.

When Lucifer again speaks, he does so without explanation or preamble. "There's a _funny_ story," he begins, clearly but casually, "about a pair of idiots who may or may not have been _meant_ for each other, but were each too _blinded_ by their own pathetic visions of so-called reality to see the _truth_.

"She had been beautiful by mortal standards, and he... well, suffice to say that Dream has _always_ been far too easily swayed by a _pretty_ enough face." Lucifer pauses momentarily, a slight frown passing across his features. "We know not the complete story; Dream had been loath to say anything more than necessary, and we did not _care_ to ask. Nevertheless, his history speaks for itself, and we can guess _well enough_ at what occurred.

"This was not the first of Dream's _tragic_ love affairs; nor, do we suspect, will it be the _last_. He is the Prince of Stories, and thus it is in his _nature_ to ever desire to act out these _pretty_ romances." Lucifer pauses to glance at Mazikeen, and she can see amusement written across his face, as well as something _more_ , something indefinable.

"Unfortunately," Lucifer continues, "he is also a _fool_ too set in his ways to _ever_ learn from his mistakes, and therefore _sabotages_ himself every time. 

"Still, on this occasion, we admit, there might have been _more_ involved. We have _spoken_ with the woman involved, the _only_ one he has _ever_ seen fit to condemn to _our realm_ , and we suspect that Morpheus truly managed to _outdo himself_ this time. In the past, he has always chosen lovers who would inevitably _grow weary_ of his various eccentricities. Nada, however, was _different_. She never tired of the Dreamlord; she never turned away from him in the _traditional_ sense. No, she claims that she _loves him still_.

"It is a dull story, _we know_. And yet it is _important_." Lucifer laughs then, and the sound is cold, cruel, utterly devoid of what a mortal might consider humour (still, it's the most beautiful laugh that Mazikeen has ever heard). "We do not know for certain, _nor_ do we particularly _care_ , but it is likely that she is as delusional as _he_.

"Nada confused what she could and what she _would_ do. She left the Dreamlord not because she _wished_ to, but because she had decided, irrationally, that she had no other _choice_. That, because he was one of the Endless and a being far greater than _she_ , the universe would... _unravel_ if she should pursue her _illicit affair_ with one so far _above_ her station."

_So far above her station._

Whatever words might have followed are lost upon Mazikeen, who, staring at her lord, recognizes that the same might apply to her. For who in this place is higher than Lucifer Morningstar, and how could she have even dared bring herself to _love_ him?

It does not matter, she decides. It is enough simply to serve. 

She asks for nothing more.

Lucifer pauses. He may be as self-absorbed as any being that has ever existed, but he is still perceptive enough to notice that her attention has wandered. In the silence, Mazikeen gazes into his eyes, and is snared by the power she sees there. He watches her thoughtfully, and she realizes that he _knows_.

A sudden sense of dread seizes her: were he to order her away, how could she disobey? 

_How could she not?_

But then he speaks again, and he is once more the archetype, the fallen angel, whose rebellion neither has been nor ever will be surpassed (as if he has ever been anything less). "The universe has survived _far worse_ ," he says, his voice as hard as diamond, as sharp as glass. " _We_ should know."

In that instant, Mazikeen knows that Lucifer Morningstar will let no power - no responsibility - stand in the way of anything he might want.

Lucifer may be as vindictive, as arrogant, as self-absorbed, and as utterly _certain_ as Dream of the Endless, but he is still _not_ the Dreamlord. Mazikeen knows her lord well enough to realize that he is a being rooted entirely in reality, and that he would never allow himself to be ruled by an idea or the echo of a story.

He is not Dream. _And I am not Nada._

"And now she is _here_ ," Lucifer continues bluntly, "and _he_ , styling himself the hero of his very _unique_ misadventure, has returned to his realm of visions and nightmares. _Neither_ is likely to ever understand how _perfectly_ matched they were - each as stupidly conscious of _responsibility_ as the other."

He closes the distance between them, each step taken with a sense of certainty that cannot possibly be matched by any other being in existence. "The moral of the story - not that we normally _care_ for morals," he snorts, "is that perfection is a _myth_ , and that love is, at best, a _questionable_ pursuit. Do with that as you will."

Lucifer is capable of being blunt, but he is also often inclined to subtlety.

Mazikeen understands what she is being offered. She also understands what she is being warned against.

"Hai vudd vhee rizh heou," she tells him. _I would stay with you forever._

Lucifer nods slowly, and his hand comes up to caress the ruined the side of her face. If he were anybody else, the gesture would be gentle, but he is Lucifer Morningstar, and so it is not. "Dream is considered cruel by most standards," he comments, "but _we_ are considered crueller _by far_. Still, know this: We _are not_ the Dreamlord. We are bound by neither his duties nor his _sensibilities_. We do not require your love, but we will _accept_ that which is freely given.

"And if you should choose to _leave_ , we _will not_ be offended."

 _We will not care_ , Mazikeen hears beneath his words. This does not concern her; Lucifer Morningstar has ever been an entity wholly unto himself, utterly independent. Even this is more than she could have hoped for.

_And I will never leave you. Your concern is misplaced; I am more than Nada._

"Zshee khoahd ngot haff hvruvvhd hing," Mazikeen decides. If Nada had truly loved the Dreamlord - as she herself loves Lucifer - then she could never have abandoned him, even if all the forces in the universe conspired to keep them apart.

"Did she not?" Lucifer queries. Mazikeen can tell by his expression that he doesn't particularly care one way or the other. " _We_ are not their advocate, but we _are_ in a position to understand _this_ : every creature in hell creates his, her, or _its_ own prison - perhaps this includes even _ourselves_. Nada remains here still simply because Morpheus _willed_ it. She has the power to _leave_ \- whether she knows it or _not_ \- and yet she _remains_ , awaiting the day when he will _relent_ and set her free.

"If that is not love, then we know not what _is_."

The argument means nothing to Mazikeen.

"Hai vill ngot ngake hehr ngizshtake," she states, and there is no doubt in her mind that this is the truth. 

"No?" Lucifer murmurs. "We _suspect_ that you already _have_. But if we would not embrace even our _mistakes_ , what, then, is left to us?" he proposes, his words so soft that she wonders if he even means for her to hear them. "To err is _human_? No, to err is _far more_ than simply that.

"The choice is _yours_ to make, Mazikeen, and I would not _take_ it from you," he concludes, and Mazikeen will later recall that it is the only occasion upon which she has ever heard him speak as himself, rather than as his office.

She knows that she has been dismissed, and bowing, steps away from him. 

"Hthangkh heou, ngy roahd." 

 


End file.
